Summer Sweat (Spruce Texas)

“What do you mean?”

“Football star. My buddies. Big weekend get-togethers. Team parties. I knew what I was a few months ago. I loved my life. Now I feel like it all went out the window the day I graduated. All of my friends … everything I knew … it’s all fuckin’ gone.”

I take a breath. I remember losing the instant camaraderie of my teammates, too. I remember my life changing in a flash after high school ended and all my strings were cut loose. “It might feel like you lost everything right now, but you haven’t. Tanner went off to college, sure, but he came back to Spruce. Kirk got married and had a kid with Bonnie, and he’s stuck around, too. Hell, ten years later, Lance even came back, and look how happy Chad was, having waited for him … sorta. It’s all part of life … part of growing up. People change. Some stick around, some don’t.”

“I’ve been clinging so damned hard to my life, to my friends, to everything,” says Hoyt, “like I can stop any of it from changing, like I can stop everyone from movin’ on and forgettin’ me. Tighter I cling, faster it goes.” He sighs. “We better get to the party before this stupid monster cake melts.”

“The cake isn’t melting. We can stay as long as you need.”

“Let’s just go.”

My own heart is heavy and the last thing I feel is ready to go, but I’m trying to stay strong here for Hoyt. “Maybe your sister will like the monster cake,” I point out, starting the engine. “It’s sort of adorable. Terrifying, too, but adorable.”

After a moment of looking miserable, he finally nods. “Yeah, the lil’ weirdo’s gonna love it.”

And off we go.

When we pull up in front of his house, the sun’s mostly down, leaving just a few ribbons of dark blue light across the sky. I kill the engine, then walk Hoyt (and the monster cake) to the door. As it opens, I find myself stepping into a loud, cluttered house with a bunch of laughing girls. They’re playing a video game in the living room at full volume, its playful music sounding like it’s trying to outmatch their laughter. Dodging the colorful balloons scattered across the floor, Hoyt meets with his mother and puts the cake on the kitchen counter next to a half-empty box of pizza, which I’m guessing finally arrived. They barely have a chance to talk before his sister notices his arrival from across the room. “Hoyt! Hoyt! Come over and help us beat this level! We can’t get past it!” Hoyt snorts over his shoulder, instantly putting on a show for his sister. “Y’know I don’t play that Candy Castle ridiculousness! I’m a grown man!” Then, proving all of that to be an act, he daintily rushes up to the couch, sits in the middle of all the girls, and shouts, “Gimme that controller! I’ll teach Evil Queen Sugarcane who’s boss!” The girls laugh and shout out excitedly. From the looks of it, this isn’t the first time he’s been a source of entertainment for all of them.

I stay awkwardly at the entryway, feeling out of place. Maybe I should just go now that he’s here and back in his element. I can return for him later on like I said I would.

The moment I have the thought, Hoyt gestures at me over the couch. “Hey, girls, you see that guy over there? He’s Harrison, and I work with him up at the Strong farm. Say hi! Don’t be rude!”

All seven girls turn their heads. “Hi, Harrison!” they shout in perfect unison.

“Ladies,” I say back, giving them a tentative wave and a smile.

“He’s shy,” says one of the girls who wears a paper crown on her head, pursing her lips with interest. That must be the birthday girl herself, his sister Gemma. She’s got his eyes and mouth.

I take a few steps into the living room. “Nah, I’m not too shy,” I say, trying to put on an air of comfort and ease.

“He’s just pretending he isn’t shy,” says Hoyt while keeping his focus on the TV screen. “He’s totally shy. You should probably attack him with a ton of invasive questions and attention.”

I glare at the back of Hoyt’s head.

Then Gemma’s eyes find it: “CAKE!!” she cries out. All of the girls abandon the couch at once as they rush up to the big table amidst Hoyt’s protesting and the parents shouting in the kitchen. Gemma gasps when she sees it. “It’s a dragon!! … I think. Is it?” She looks over her shoulder. “Hoyt? Is this a dragon?”

“It’s whatever you—dang it!—want it to be. These Candy Corns won’t stop attacking me! It can be a kangaroo with fangs, or a pink, fire-breathing ferret. Shoot, this level’s harder than I remember! Or it can be my face whenever you wake me up too early.”